#despite the many which turn out to actually be me

[abramswife]

HALF OF ME (i)

SUMMARY: Despite appearances, you’d learnt Soldier Boy was, actually, capable of being a good man. Somehow, you’d wormed yourself into his good books, and had the rarest privilege of seeing him without the suit, the drugs, the ego, the everything. Just as things were going good, his heart somehow getting even warmer for you, the world separates you in the cruelest way.

PAIRING: Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3573

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Sexism (set in the 1980’s), typical Soldier Boy behaviour, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, questionable morals (peer pressuring drug use), sexual content, eludes to smut, Soldier Boy may be a bit OOC at times, gore.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

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Becoming a world famous supe was never something you’d ever wanted. Sure, you’d grown up with their photos on your bedroom walls, your father telling you stories of when the first ever supe came to be, insisting he fought alongside the Soldier Boy in the war

The people around you seemed to idolise them. These… mostly regular people in tight suits, pretending to be better than everyone else.

You knew better. You knew enough. Enough to know supes were dirty, and corrupt, and definitely not the heroes they presented themselves to be. That their hands were more blood than they were skin anymore.

And, frankly, you wanted nothing to do with Vought or Payback — or whatever the fuck those shitty, useless superhero teams were called. (Seriously, what did they actually do? Except sit in their pretty tower and take the peoples’ taxes?)

Your father, however, had different ideas.

So, at 18, you woke up in the hospital, after an ugly head collision, with superpowers you’d never had before. A miracle, the doctors called it, a supe whose extraordinary powers had been hidden for her whole life. When you got home, you forced the truth out of your father. Compound V, he called it, a new chemical made by Vought.

No one was born a supe, he admitted, it all came from a liquid in a vial. The truth hurt you, as much as it didn’t really surprise you. Chosen by God, my ass.

This wasn’t supposed to be your life.

But it’s certainly what it turned out to be.

Payback were as shitty, if not more, than you’d originally thought. Each of them had… many flaws. Soldier Boy, obviously, was the worst. If the Devil reincarnated himself, he’d look and act like Soldier Boy.

Simply talking to the man made you want to shoot yourself.

Well… it did at one point.

Two years down the line, things had changed. Soldier Boy was still insufferable, sexist, arrogant, and a major asshole. But… he wasn’t so much a dick directly to you, as he used to be. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was actually somewhat nice to you. As much as his macho heart could manage, anyway.

You noticed it the first time when he saved your life on a mission. He’d grabbed your waist when a grenade clinked at your feet, whirling you around and to the ground, squashing you against his firm chest, using his shield to protect you both from the hot blast. He’d shrugged it off as nothing; as something any leader would do for his team. Then you watched him hit Gunpowder about for not following his order to a T, and realised… maybe he did treat you different.

It was undeniable these days.

You were the only person on Payback that Soldier Boy could remotely tolerate.

“You need’a be more careful.” Despite the hard look on his face, Soldier Boy was staring down at you, as a Vought doctor wrapped clean bandages tightly around your midsection. It was a bullet to the wound; which, with being a supe, wouldn’t be too bad, but you didn’t heal inhumanely fast like he did. “You’re fuckin’ useless when you’re hurt.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for your concern, Soldier Boy.”

His eyes narrowed into a harsh glare. “Ben.” He corrected you, for what was probably the 50th time. Each time he did, he got more annoyed with you. “How many times do I have to say it? Is there a brain in that pretty head’a’yours?“

You grunted, spinning on the bed and hanging your legs off the side of it. “Thanks for the compliment.” Ben rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, not offering a hand as you groaned in discomfort and got to your feet. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be healed up by the time we set off for Nicaragua, if that’s what you’re worried ‘bout.”

Ben just grunted, displeased. “Ain’t happenin’.” He immediately shot that idea down. “We leave for Nicaragua next week. You ain’t comin’. Sit this one out.”

You stared, expecting a joke. Clearly, he wasn’t. “Seriously?” You groaned, unhappy. What was it with this guy? “I’ll be fine. It’s a silly little bullet.”

“I was holdin’ your fuckin’ guts in your body.” He walked away, reminding you of just how bad your injury actually had been. He had, indeed, practically been keeping your guts inside of you as you bled out. “You ain’t going. You’re stayin’ here.” You chased after him, pulling your shirt on as you left the infirmary.

“Ben—“

He whirled around to face you. “I said, you’re fucking staying.” He growled, glaring down at you. God, were you glad you were on his side. This man was terrifying. Six feet of pure muscle, strength and violence. “You’re better off here, using that face of yours to get some PR.”

“And, what? The others will back you up?” You scoffed, grabbing his wrist as he went to walk away again. His expression went cold at your touch, but you didn’t flinch. As much as he tried to scare you, Ben wouldn’t raise a hand at you… probably. You had faith in the man. “They can’t fight for shit, Ben. Gunpowder hasn’t even discovered his own dick yet. You think you’re gonna have your back covered out there?”

He ripped his wrist away harshly. “I don’t need my back covered.”

“Everyone needs their back covered.” You argued. “Even you.”

He chuckled, sarcastic and dry. “You worried ‘bout me, princess?” You gave him a ‘seriously?’ look, as he took a step closer, mouth curled into that ever-infuriating smirk. “I’d perform better if you sent me off with a taste of that—“

“Ben.” You interrupted him, unimpressed. You rolled his eyes at his predictable behaviour. “I’m not gonna fuck morale into you.”

“Shame.” His eyes flicked up and down, tracing the curves of your body. “Bet you’d be a firecracker.” He walked away again, and you threw your hands up, groaning. Ben chuckled as he turned the corner. “Think it over, sweetheart.”

“You’ve got a hand.” You called back to him. “Use it!”

Conversations like that were very common with Ben.

It’d be a normal conversation (as normal as it gets with him) — and then he’d start talking about fucking you against the nearest surface, and all pleasantries went down the drain. Seriously, he thought 80% with his dick, and 20% with his actual brain.

And that was being kind.

But, beneath all of his macho assholery, was his genuine worry. You knew he wasn’t letting you accompany the rest of the team to Nicaragua because of your injury, despite how minor it was, and that he was worried you’d injure yourself further.

He was just… shit it showing it.

Poor bastard wouldn’t know emotion if it slapped him in the face.

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“I am not wearing this.”

Okay… scratch all of that. Maybe Ben was just a dickhead.

He lounged back in his chair, grinning lazily, legs spread like he owned the place. He probably thought he did. “Why not?” He took a sip of his whiskey, ice clinking against the sides, eyes never leaving you from over the rim of the glass.

You held up the fabric. “Seriously?”

It was basically a scrap of fabric, with how much it covered up. You didn’t shy away from showing skin. You quite liked short skirts and pushing the line. Because, as a supe, there was a line. Vought liked it when you showed skin — apparently it made your ratings go up with the male fans, no shocker. But, too much skin on display, the male fans started calling you a whore, and the ratings shot back down.

It was a bit like a balancing game, trying to find the perfect amount of skin to make the boys ogle but also respect you. An impossible feat, truthfully.

And this? This was definitely classed as too much.

“I don’t see the issue.” His smirk said otherwise.

“My tits are not gonna stay in this, Ben!”

His smirk just grew. “Again, I don’t see the issue.”

You groaned and put the dress down. “No. I’ll get my own dress. I am not wearing that.” You tell him, arms folding across your chest. You didn’t miss the way he checked out your tits, and the way the placement of your arms accentuated them.

He rolled his eyes, obviously not happy with your decision. Leaning towards, elbows on his knees, Ben’s eyes took you in. “Why?” His head cocked to the side. “You’d look hot. It’d make your ass look great.”

“That’s not a compliment.” You grumbled, pushing a hand through your hair. Ben made a small grunt of disagreement, but didn’t say anything otherwise. “Listen, there’s a certain line. Alright? If I wear that, every guy out there will be callin’ me a whore. Okay? Imma find something else.”

He hummed and sat back. “I think you should wear that one.” Sighing heavily, you just rolled your eyes at his persistence. “All those assholes will be blowin’ their pants just lookin’ at you, sweetheart.”

“Again, not a compliment.”

Ben stared at you, and silently took another sip of his whiskey. He always seemed to think these crude, rather sexist and inappropriate remarks were compliments. Like commenting on your body. Or saying you’d be a freak in bed. Which were obviously not actually compliments.

You rolled your eyes, rubbing your forehead. “I’ll find another dress, Ben.” You told him, definitive. There was no way he was going to convince you to wear that dress.

“What a disappointment.” He grinned, lopsided. “I was lookin’ forward to seein’ you in that dress.”

“Again,” you deadpanned as he checked you out once more, “you have a hand… use it.”

Ben just smirked, and sipped his whiskey again.

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You wore the fucking dress.

The asshole always won. Always.

He looked so fucking pleased, as you walked into his after-party, wearing the dress he’d picked out for you. His smugness was clear, brushing through the crowd with ease to come to you.

Ben hummed, eyes dilating as he stared you down. His eyes lingered on your tits, as they always did. “You look…” he hesitated, trying to think of a compliment that wasn’t degrading, and failed, “fuckin’ hot. If you weren’t such a bitch, I’d bend you over right here.”

Your face pulled together in disgust, looking at him with your lips pressed together “… gross.”

He chuckled. “Drink?” He offered. “I got your favourite.”

And there he goes again.

Being nice.

It did your damn head in.

Accepting his offer, you shivered as his large hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. They all seemed to part like the Red Sea as he came through, a fact that amused you greatly.

Seriously. These women looked at him like he was Jesus reincarnated, when he’d totally call them in a whore in bed.

Ben silently reached out for your favourite alcoholic drink, pouring it into a glass. His eyes scanned over the room, smirking at a few of the women ogling, sending them rushing to their friends and squealing. He merely chuckled and handed you the full glass.

“Thanks.” You murmured, taking it from him. Your eyes stared up at him for a moment, curious, before looking away again.

What was it with him? How could be such an egotistical one minute, and then be nice and respectful the next? It was like a guessing game, trying to figure out what mood he was in.

He grabbed your wrist, his grip firm, but not enough to hurt you. “Come with me.” He guided you through the crowd once again, to the doors in the back. As he pushed through into the room, he flashed you a cocky grin over his shoulder. Dickhead.

This room was far quieter. You noticed, immediately, the only people present were supes and celebrities, not the random civilians that’d been granted a pity invite — or the women Ben thought were hot. This was the main party. There were drugs covering every table, with various big names passed out on the chairs, blazed.

Ben lead you to the corner, where he’d obviously already been busy, if the half-snorted lines of cocaine proved anything.

Silently, he offered you a line, which you gratefully accepted.

You didn’t do drugs before you joined Payback. In fact, you’d avoided them, promising yourself you’d never become that type of person. But it was the norm within Vought. Every supe spent their nights filling their bodies to the brim with various drugs, poisoning themselves. So, you started smoking weed to fit in.

Then Ben found out you only did weed, and decided it wasn’t enough. With enough pressure, he’d gotten you onto any other substance he could convince you to try.

It made you more attractive, in his eyes, as you spiralled into addiction like him.

In fact, it got him rock hard, to snort lines or share a joint with you. It was so fucking hot, watching your eyes glass over as you got higher with every hit, with every line. God, it turned him on so bad.

You snorted your third line of the night, when Ben suddenly pushed you back into your chair. Bewildered, you stared at him, as he snatched up a baggie of the white powder. Your heart leapt to your throat, the moment he moved aside the slit in your dress, revealing the bare skin of your thigh. All breath left your lungs, watching him pour some of the powder onto your thigh.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He was about to do a line off you.

He glanced at you through his lashes, smirking at the shocked and flushed expression you wore. He used his pocket knife to cut the lines, mindful of the sharp blade against your soft skin.

God, this was hot. He found it hot. You found it hot. It’d be a damn miracle if you ended the night with your clothes on at this point.

Your skin tingled as he sniffed up the first line, of his hands roughly gripping the top of your thigh to steady you, his other holding a rolled up $100 bill. He groaned in pleasure, body physically shuddering, head shaking, as the drug made his body run hot.

He did the next line, the grip on your thigh becoming tighter as his pupils began to blow up.

Was it getting hot in here? Or was it just you?

Maybe it was the cocaine in your systems, maybe it was the fact Ben was just… so damn hot, but you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing his hair and forcing his head up as he snorted the final line off your thigh.

He looked up at you, pupils blown, lips parted. Holy shit. This man was sculpted like a fucking God. Your body shivered. “You finally takin’ my offer, sweetheart?” He chuckled, shaking off the immediate effects of the cocaine, raising himself up to your level.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, breathless, practically begging him.

His eyes went dark, almost black, with lust. The smirk on his lips made you squeeze your legs together. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”

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You understood the hype now. You understood why women bent their knees the moment Ben uttered a word to them.

Holy shit, did this man have talent.

Your legs were still twitching, the space in between your legs throbbing and tingling with how many times you’d come on his fingers, his tongue and cock. You’d counted four, before your vision had gone white.

Jesus, he had stamina. A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it’d been just over five hours since you’d first fell into Ben’s bed. That super strength was better for more than just fighting, after all. This man should be advertised for his abilities. No shocker he was an American sex symbol.

He’d just fucked your brains out.

And now, he was staring at you with admiration, laid on his side, in the same bed he’d just railed you in. “You feelin’ okay?” He murmured, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah.” You rolled over to face him, a jolt of discomfort and pain in your hips and thighs. You might have to hold back on… doing anything for the next few days, however. “You didn’t break anything.” You joked, soft and breathy.

He chuckled quietly, hand sliding around your waist and dragging you closer to him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.” He whispered, uncharacteristically soft and gentle.

“To fuck me senseless?”

He smirked. “Mm, I have dreamt of that.” Your eyes narrowed in mild disgust at the image of him having wet dreams about you, swatting his chest. He grinned and caught your hand. “No… I meant how long I’ve waited to have you. You’re fuckin’ perfect. Not just your body. Everything about you is so sexy.”

Your brows furrowed, squeezing his hand, and then worming your fingers out of his. “What do you mean?” You asked softly.

He seemed to struggle for a moment. He wet his tongue with his lips, making your body tingle again. Jesus. “Let’s get dinner.”

What.

“Me and you.” Ben smiled, tracing the curves of your body with a featherlight touch. “Real fancy. I’ll pay.” Was he… asking you on a date right now? The Soldier Boy, asking you on a date? Instead of fucking you and tossing you out?

“You’re serious?” You asked softly, surprised. When he nodded, you grinned, biting your lip to contain it. “Okay, Ben. Let’s get dinner.”

His eyes lit up. Ducking his head down, his lips touched yours, gentle and affectionate. His kiss spoke so many words; his hands gently cradling your body, as he kissed you like you were made of glass. The touch was intimate and loving, widely different to the one he’d used when he’d been on top of you.

No, this was completely different. This was him being vulnerable. This was him showing you just how he felt, without the words.

He smiled against your lips and pulled back, just enough to speak, but his words were still brushing yours. “Yeah?” He whispered, in response to your agreement.

“Yeah.” You stared at him with big eyes.

He grinned, almost boyish in its nature. He stared at you in adoration, seeming to be collecting the words on the tip of his tongue.

You giggled under his stare. You sat up, pulling him with you, grabbing the blanket that he had draped over his headboard. It was fluffy and warm, and smelt like his cologne, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap it around your shoulders, cocooning yourself.

If possible, his gaze softened even more. “You’re adorable.”

Quietly, you laughed. “You sure you wanna do this, Ben?” You stared back at him. Ben was nothing if not a womaniser. Settling down was nothing like him. “Get serious with me, I mean.”

“You’re the only one I’d ever want to.”

Your brows pulled together, confused. “Why?”

Ben soothed a hand through your hair, green eyes drinking in the perfections and imperfections on your face. “You’re the only one I trust.” His voice was gravelly, still heavy with the effects of your recent endeavours. His hand travelled through your hair, and then came down to cup your cheek.

Wrapped up in his fluffy blanket, your head rested on the wooden headboard. “I trust you, too.” You whispered, tilting your head into his palm. His skin was rough, painted with callouses and scars. Every scar on his body had a story. And you’d spend the rest of your life learning every single one.

Despite himself, he smiled at you, thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “I’d kill for you. You know that?” His words made you shiver. Ben killing people wasn’t exactly new… or surprising. But doing it for you? God, it made your stomach heat up — and other parts. “These assholes don’t hold a candle to you, doll. Countess? That whore is— is repulsive compared to you.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes affectionately. “Ben.” You scolded quietly, though not with an ounce of anger.

The supe just smirked, chuckling deep in his throat. “You want me to drop that bullshit PR relationship I have with her? I’ll do it. In a fucking heartbeat. I’ll be with you, publicly, if you want me.”

“You’d ruin your reputation for me?” Now that — that meant something. Ben could say anything and everything; he was a master manipulator. He could get anything he wanted with that smile and his suave words. But, if there was one thing he would always prioritise, it was his reputation. He’d do anything to be the alpha male. Anything.

“I’d do anything for you.” He grabbed your hand within his much larger one, guiding it to his chest. He pressed your palm over his heart, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. “I’ll do anything for you, to be with you.” You felt the steady rhythm of his heart. He wasn’t lying. That, or he was a great fucking liar. “I’m never leaving your side. I’m yours.”

Your eyes searched deep within his. “Always?”

Ben smiled. “Always.” He leant forward, gently pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

Three months later, Soldier Boy died in a nuclear meltdown.

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A/N: jesus christ this took me so long to write 😭 but i’m so happy with how this first chap turned out. it’s gonna get so much more fun to write we get to the action 👀 pls lmk if there’s any mistakes, as i will go back n fix them !!! hope you enjoyed <3

TAGLIST: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #the boys tv #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #half of me

[yestrday]

the first thing I think of when Reader is portrayed as naive and innocent in an AU is how in the future they’re worse then all their hybrids combined, and I’m getting some major brainrot over the hybrid AU so just hear me out here ‼️‼️

Reader was of course innocent and naive, sheltered in every way, but that was before their father suddenly decided that playing the role of a doting father in public would boost his dying image more then keeping reader locked up

So Readers thrust into the life of an heir, forced to come to grips with the cold harsh reality that is the business world, and realize that they’re never going to have any true power or freedom as long as their father is still around

So they plan and scheme, analyzing their fathers greatest achievements and his worst failures, learning all about how to play the business world, and people in general, like a fine tuned instrument. Just patiently waiting till their fathers gradual cover ups over the years suddenly make their way into the public eye.

And when it’s revealed that Readers parent abandoned them and then picked them up again for his entertainment, forcing them to turn to mere hybrids for genuine human interaction?

Well, both those concerned for Reader, and those not, take note. Suddenly investigations are happening and their fathers tax fraud and million dollar bribes are revealed, and oh what’s that, he’s also involved in multiple different crime organizations? How horrible

Reader miraculously finds themself to be the CEO how every company that their father had, an owner of all of his properties, and immeasurably rich beyond belief when their father dies in jail under simply tragic circumstances.

Only this time, Reader won’t let the opportunity to take the world by storm pass by. After all, they have a rather beautiful collection of hybrids waiting at home for them, and you know how clingy beloved pets are when you make them wait.

You cant blame the poor darlings though, the public whispers behind lustful gazes and adoring stares, they just can’t get enough of their powerful owner

actually anon this ask (which has been fermenting in my ask for a year now) has been the inspiration in why there's been a whole heir sub plotline in my hybird works.

i like the idea of the hybrids subtly corrupting the innocent bird that's been in their cage for far too long, now able to spread their wings but just doesn't know how. they feed darling whispers about how their parent abandoned them, how they're the only family they have. and all of them are oh so eager to follow reader's convoluted schemes to bring down their father and the company's enemies.

i find that corrupting darling would have many benefits to the hybrids. one, well, corruption arc? it would be just so lovely to see your naivety crushed and broken, making you rely on them not as your protectors but also as your fellow sinners in this plan. two, since you're so influential, you'll be able to at least influence society's views on hybrids. you'll be in a high enough position to influence lawmakers to loosen their binds on hybrids, to make hybrids equal... idk, just a thought.

this only applies to zhongli, since he's bound by a contract to your father, but this could be the perfect opportunity to revenge. what better way to take revenge on the man who coerced you into a humiliating contract than watch his own flesh and blood (who he does love despite all his callousness) impeach him from his throne and throw him into jail. it's perfect. plus, he'll be able to spend freedom with you forever and ever <3

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #yandere x reader #genshin impact x reader #yester.shorts #yester.au — hybrids 🐾

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

they managed to massacre Aang's character and all the struggle and importance of his choice in the finale in a SINGLE page, and yet there are people who think the comics are good

and of course Katara's would have nothing to say on the matter, toootally in-character

Not to mention: yes, Zuko is right that a lifetime of indoctrination won't magically stop affecting him just because he's aware of it now, but the way the comics really said "If you're not perfect, you deserve to die. Not rehabilitation, not even incarceration despite it being an option, just straight to violent, lethal punishment" is horrying.

And lets not forget the blatant abuse apologism of having Zuko, the kid who was told by his abusive parent that his disfigurement and banishment was "for his own good" after he made one "mistake", turning to his closest friends and asking them to be his "safety net" by MURDERING HIM IF EVER STEPS OUT OF LINE - and said friends then agree to it.

Are you fucking kidding me? The real Aang would have double-down on the "You're NOT your father" bit, and the entire friend group would have been super concerned about Zuko because a victim of abuse saying they're as bad as their abuser thus deserve to die is one hell of a red flag as to how their mental health is going.

Speaking of mental health: I talk a lot about how Azula was constantly being abused by the supposed heroes in the comics, and how the justification of it is rooted in ableism, but this nonsense with Zuko asking to be put down like a dog is also peak victim blaming, and one of the few moments in which one can actually feel bad for comics!Zuko.

And it ties into a disturbing pattern I noticed among Avatar fans - and mainly Zuko fans. They don't truly understand that what Ozai put his children through was wrong, they simply think he chose the wrong kid as the escapegoat. They think Azula should have been the one that is constantly punished just for existing, while Zuko is the golden child that can do no wrong - or else.

This moment right here? With the people that he trusts agreeing to inflict violence on him if he ever makes a mistake? This is that "or else". This is literally the same mentality that led to Azula's breakdown because NO ONE CAN SURVIVE UNDER THAT MUCH PRESSURE.

And that leads us to the main reason why the comcis suck: Yang was using Zuko as a self-insert.

"Zuko‘s relationship with Ozai is something we – Mike, Brian, Dark Horse, Nickelodeon, and I – talked about extensively when we first started working together. There’s this strange thing that happens to people in power. The pressures of power often blur the lines between enemies. That’s part of what happens to Zuko here. Ozai is the only one who knows what it’s like to be Fire Lord, the only one who has the wisdom of experience. I also looked at my own life. I used to clash with my dad quite a bit when I was a teenager. However, as I grew up and found myself in roles that he used to have, I began to understand more and more of his decisions. My father isn't thoroughly evil, of course, but I imagine Zuko feels a little of the same pull."

Yang. My guy. My dude. The words "Ozai" and "wisdom" should NEVER be in the same sentence. Every single action of Ozai's as Fire Lord was based on him being an abusive piece of shit that finally got access to absolute power. He is not a stern dad, he is abusive. He's not misunderstood, he needed to be stopped and locked away. He is a human being with feelings and motivations, yes, but he is WRONG ABOUT LITERALLY EVERYTHING EVER. He NEVER had a point. Zuko has nothing to learn from him except what NOT to do. That's why he looks like an older, unscarred Zuko. A version of Zuko that never changed.

This is the core issue of the comics, and why it had so many moments of unintentional abuse apologism: they say Ozai is a villain, but they're going out of their way to constantly make the characters come dangerously close to saying "Maybe he had a point." That's why they have Zuko turn to Ozai for advice despite claiming he wants to avoid becoming like him - because the guy writting them couldn't understand that the bad guy was, in fact, bad and in the wrong and has no wisdom to offer to anyone.

Avatar, the series, is about the world moving past from the sick mentality people like Ozai had, and about his son realizing that he did not deserve to be abused. The Avatar Comics are about telling Zuko (and others) "Ozai isn't wrong actually, you'll understand when you're older."

No, Yang, they won't. Because there's nothing to "understand" here other than THE GUY THAT ABUSED HIS CHILDREN AND COMMITED GENOCIDE WAS WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING, YOU DUMBASS!

Saying "the villain had a point" does not make a story better unless it is true - and in Ozai's case, it simply isn't. Insisting otherwise doesn't make the story and characters more mature, it just means you couldn't understand a cartoon aimed at 7-year-olds despite being a grown-ass man.

And I won't even get into Bryke approving of this bullshit otherwise I'll start tearing my hair out in rage at how badly they seem to have lost touch with the message of their best work, so let me just use a simple statemet to make everyone understand just how much of a disaster this is:

Even M. Night Shyamalan didn't misunderstand ATLA to the point of thinking Ozai wasn't actually wrong, but Bryan, Mike and Yang did. The comics understand the show less than M. Night Shyamalan did.

I rest my fucking case.

#atla comics #the comics suck #zuko deserved better #azula deserved better

[babacontainsmultitudes]

[just venting a bit into the void you understand you understand 😌] Lately I've been feeling very caught between "I have a lot of thoughts on Sparrow and Normal and all that with the ending and teen talk and feel like I need to get them out and voice them for my own piece of mind and resolution" and "I am lacking the strength and energy to actually sit down and write it all out and kind of really just want to fully move on to other things (AUs, fics, anything else)" but my brain can't seem to commit to either and that's quite frustrating cause it's just left me very restless. *Sigh*. Idk! Just needed to complain about that a bit ig, it's silly but this is what has been ailing me as of late.

#Then there's also a part of me that's like “does anyone even care at this point? haven't I already talked about them too much?” #but I have seen many a take that irk me... #and perhaps at the center of it all nagging at me is that persistent conflation of love and pride #Less about that in Normal's mind so much as in Will's and the fandom's 🤔 #Also that reoccurring issue of the fandom going ''Normal thinks this therefore it is The Truth'' though I believe I've discussed this befor #And... Hooks Will could have grabbed onto but didn't... Quite a few of those... #And the double standard/negativity bias in fandom of ignoring that Sparrow says both that he loves and likes Normal while doodlerized #But not treating those with the same legitimacy we do the pride thing. And ignoring Sparrow's demonstrations of love and change... #And what the love wolf scene actually implies about Sparrow (as I see it) with his own explanation of the pride thing in mind #But also!!! Also on Norm's epilogue and how despite everything taken at face value (i.e. no teen talk influence) I don't actually hate it #and I think it's plenty salvageable #And gah also that like *regardless* of how things turn out with Normal and his dad- #Well I haven't listened to much of the teen talk just the directly Sparrow-relevant clips #so I don't know quite how cynical Will is or isn't about Normal's future #But like. UGH. What I'm trying to say is even if things didn't find resolution vis-a-vis his dad #(which tbh I could go either way on- it's the meta misinterpretations of Sparrow that Bother me not so much Normal's) #(Well that's complicated. Again it comes back to the love vs. pride thing gosh this is so vague of me lol) #With all the positive influences in his life (and just the fact that life is long? and therapy is a thing?) I just don't see Normal- #being Miserable for the rest of his life. Like. I mean I won't elaborate here really but damn it no he can absolutely turn out alright stil #blugh #BUT YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN THAT'S A LOT OF STUFF AND THAT'S ONLY VAGUE RAMBLINGS ABOUT *SOME* OF IT #Like I'm proud of a lot of my essay posts (which I'm hoping to eventually compile in a masterpost eventually actually) but they take a whil #And if my heart wants to do other things... Ah idk... #ANYWAYS a vent to vent a vent to vent

[broke-on-books]

☕

The live action Scooby-Doo movies?

I did not see this ask until RIGHT now (first time on desktop since crab day, second time since Nov 5 2020 [which was DOUBLY experience since I got my phone taken the same day]) so I'm going to assume this ask got eaten on mobile because tumblr, HOWEVER you poked a bear with this ask anon (as I'm sure you knew when asking) SO without further ado: my Scooby Doo live action opinions

So when you say 'live action Scooby-Doo movies' I'm assuming you're talking about the James Gunn films, starting with Scooby-Doo (2002) followed by Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed, just due to like, generally popularity and also the fact that I have actually seen those films. However shoot another ask if you wanted me to include Curse of the Lake Monster in this (because I will if anyone cares and turn this into a live-action scooby dissertation, i'd just need to like. watch the movie first) But anyways where I'm going with this is that this post is about the Gunn movies aka the ones with SMG, Freddie Prinze Jr., Linda Cardellini, and ofc our #1 man, Matthew Lilliard.

Okay so my take on these movies is... complicated. I wouldn't say it's as complicated as my feelings towards SDMI, because I watched the live actions way less as a kid and generally care less about them, but still no matter how much shit I throw at these two movies there are parts that I generally like (even love) that stops me from totally condemning them wholesale. Like the fact that these movies are FUNNY! There's so many moments from this duology that are just beyond iconic "like, that's one of my favorite names!" the whole thing with Scooby in the dress at the airport, ET. CETERA (like I can go on!)

The Gunn movies are genuinely SO fun and I can 100% see and understand how they've stood so well in the public view as a representation of Scooby. HOWEVER, this is where you start to see my problems with them. For the general American, (because that is the audience I'm familiar with) ESPECIALLY millennials and younger, who happen to make up the majority of both people on this site AND people I talk about Scooby with in real life, these movies, and the elements they introduced as "quintessential scooby tropes" are the base of their understanding of the Scooby franchise, along with likely some miscellaneous WAY episodes and maybe SDMI.

Which is where I get pissed off. In the pushing of the narrative of "breaking away" from the Scooby norm, Gunn basically invents (aka totally makes up) an idea of what classic era Scooby was like, cementing an idea of classic Scooby into the public mind that is totally disingenuous and just straight up false. For example, in attempting to portray Daphne as having taken strides to be seen more seriously in solving mysteries and defending herself, it pushes the narrative that in the classic era she WASN'T taken seriously, and only existed as a damsel-in-distress prop of a character, which is just not true??? Like yes, Daphne is clumsy, that's a part of her character, and her friends (because, fun fact, the gang ARE friends) joke about it sometimes because that's what friends DO. Framing that in some kind of sexist "that's all she does" lens is just total bull, especially as gang members fall into secret passageways/get lost etc. in WAY ALL THE DAMN TIME because that's how the plot functions! Like are we calling Velma ditzy for losing her glasses every other episode? Of course not, and Fred falls into passageways all the time, not to MENTION Shaggy and Scooby and all they get up to. Also one last thing on the topic of Daphne, like this idea of her mystery solving skills not being respected by the gang is just so supremely bullshit it amazes me sometimes, especially when she was the LEADER (or leader adjacent) through pretty much all of her appearances in the 1980s [Not that James Gunn could look at '80s era Scooby without spitting on it, but I digress]

AND THIS IS JUST DAPHNE! Like the perceptions pushed towards Fred (and Velma, but mostly Fred) through these movies are just as bad! Like okay, with Fred---In these movies Fred is just an asshole. I hate Gunn Movies!Fred. I mean yeah he can be funny but it's almost always so mean! Almost nothing makes me madder than a mean Fred by the way. If he's putting other gang members down (even halfway, like with his whole "dorky chicks like you turn me on too" line, which... ew) then to me something has gone very, very, VERY, wrong in your basic understanding of Frederick Herman Jones as a character. Like he's the cheerleader! He puts himself in between his friends and danger! He loves nets, and traps, and Elvis impressions, and wrestling, and the trapeze, and cars, and most of all he LOVES sharing the things he loves with his friends! (Sometimes to a bit of an extreme. No one wants to hear about your net facts, Fred) And the live action movies just don't understand that at all. And I know there's maybe something to say I suppose in that some of those aspects of his characterization hadn't been "established yet" by the time "Scooby-Doo" came out in 2002. But it's there if you look. For Fred Jones, being the leader means being the caretaker, (he's the Mom friend what can I say) and any version where he's cruel and arrogant and just DOESN'T CARE about his friends in the way he's shown to in the Gunn movies is just so far from Fred to me it's not even funny. And what makes it even worse for me is that this (or at least something similar) is the idea of Fred that has really spread to the popular culture. Just the "leader", the jock that makes the rules, the one that [insert X adaptation here] finally gave a personality and made interesting (something that has been said more times than I can count for pretty much every gang member, save Shaggy and Scooby).

And I haven't even touched on Velma, and how they gave her a bit of a early 2000s smart superiority girl complex against Daphne, plus the whole makeover thing and etc. etc. The Gunn Movies are pretty much what would happen if you took someone who hadn't seen Scooby since they were 7 years old (and honestly had a pretty negative outlook against it then) and tried to "fix" it, only his memory was so bad he just made up problems (and threw in a good helping of early 2000s style sexism with it) convincing pretty much the entirety of the popular culture that said problems exist and that Gunn was absolutely brilliant for fixing them (and then bringing up said "problems" whenever anyone wants to talk about Scooby) and this entire rant has been without even fucking MENTIONING what is probably the reason you, anonymous tumblr user sent this ask in the first place, to I, Swishy "Scrappy Doo Redemption Arc" Broke-on-books (dot tumblr dot com), which is his HIGHLY SUCESSFUL and utterly sadistic character assassination of my number one man, Scrappy Doo.

And I am going to try my damnedest here not to get totally into my highly passionate opinions over what James Gunn did to Scrappy in the first of his Scooby movies and how thoroughly it has pissed me the fuck off because I have been writing this post for over an hour now and if we start to really get into my feelings on this topic it will certainly be a couple of hours more but like. That Fucking Bitch. I give James Gunn personally a solid eighty-five percent of the blame for making my life as a Scrappy Doo fan UTTERLY unbearable with this stupid fucking movie alone, and just his Scrappy crimes would honestly be enough for me to say that I hate this movie, not even considering the numerous Scooby crimes I've been talking about here for the past million paragraphs, but the part about this movie that makes me the MOST mad the most pissed off is that it's actually a good fucking movie. James Gunn wrote two hilarious and entertaining movies that have become beloved in the popular culture for their successes in that arena, while at the same time pissing all over the core themes and messages of the franchise of which it was based, that of friendship.

TLDR; The Live Action Scooby Doo movies (written by James Gunn) are highly entertaining and fun pieces of media to watch, and are widely loved by the general public and looked at with fondness and nostalgia because of that. However, as a hardcore Scooby Doo fan (writing that phrase sounds so ridiculous but oh well) the existence of these movies and their impact on the popular culture can be extremely frustrating (despite any personal nostalgia said fan may have) due to their spreading of a misinformed picture of what "typical Scooby Doo" looks like. This picture is especially frustrating due to the fabrication or exaggeration of problems present in classic Scooby (such as sexism in regards to the girls), as well as giving more ammunition to other problems in Scooby fandom (such as oversexualization, and sexualization in general, which no one wants to see in regards to their children's cartoons, like HONESTLY.) Discussions of sexism and sexualization in Scooby (both of which ARE present and are issues, although not at their worst in WAY) can often lead to an overlooking of the issues that are very present and clear in WAY and have continued since then with far too little resistance (I'm 100% talking about the racism here) HOWEVER that topic deserves at least a dozen posts of its own that I am no way informed or qualified enough to even begin to think about writing. The Gunn Movies are frustrating to many longtime Scooby fans because of these reasons, but for me, and fellow Scrappy Doo fans there is also the added aspect of the demonization of Scrappy Doo in the live action movies and the affects that has had on the popular culture as well, making it uniquely inhospitable to like or enjoy the character of Scrappy. End post.

#that last sentence is such a weird tone jump btw but its because the topic flowed one way and i had to jump it back to a summary to actually #finish this monster of a post #SO anon i hope you're happy with this and this makes my opinion make some more sense. and you or anyone else is more than welcome to ask me #questions about anything i said here or my opinion on any and everything scooby related (and not) so if theres a specific aspect of this yo #would like expanded on i can definitely 100% do that for you or anyone who cares #also there are many complexities towards my feelings on these movies that i didnt get to hit on despite the monstrous size of this rant (il #check word count later but im not gonna fuck with it now because im terrified of deleting this post by accident) one of which is my lasting #fondness towards all of the actors in this movie. YES including freddie prinze jr. i may have major issues with his fred but hes also playe #characters i really really like. for example hes the va in this tv show i LOVE and havent watched in like 10 months despite the fact im on #the last season because freddie's character dies in like 7 episodes and i am NOT AT ALL emotionally prepared for that on any level because #that is my fictional father goddamnit!!!!! #also every buffy the vampire slayer gifset that crosses my dash gets me closer and closer to watching it because oh my god daphne!!!!! that #sarah michelle gellar thats daphne oh my god!!!! also i went and saw guardians of the galaxy 3 with my friend (despite not having seen a #marvel movie in 2+ years AND holding a grudge over james gunn's scooby doo crimes)[the things you do for {platonic} love amirite?] #and the title sequence SAID linda cardellini was in it and i got SO excited i was looking everywhere for her it was like wheres waldo in th #discount movie theatre FOR REAL and i just could NOT for the life of me find her (turns out she was VAing the ferret) so in a way linda mad #me cry with that role. whatever. istg i get so off topic i forget what i was even talking about but ANYWAYS <<<1 of my fave english words b #dubs (my favorite spanish word is el amanacer btw. it means sunrise. also burbujas because its bubbles and saying it sounds like bubbles #popping) BUT. AS I WAS SAYING. SEND ME ASKS IF YOU WANT SCOOBY DOO OPINIONS. DEAR GOD I GET SCATTERBRAINED SOMETIMES. #scooby doo #answered #anonymous #blah

[tbcanary]

i mean. the thing is that it isn’t that cass is bruce’s favorite kid or the best sibling. she’s the best bat, which is fundamentally a different thing.

#text.tb #I can’t remember if I reblogged the post that got me thinking about this or not #but shoutout to the op of that post for pointing out how unfair it is to reduce her to Favorite Child #bc she isn’t. she’s the best at being a new version of batman and the best at vigilante stuff and crime fighting that aligns with Bruce #which is why they work well together #the interpersonal stuff and her relationships with the other bats and people outside of her circle are complicated and nuanced #I am always thinking about cass not getting the kind of training that was given to all the little birdies she spends time with #because that training was important bonding with bruce for a lot of them #and she didn’t get it! even Steph did (altho not to the same extent) and Tim did despite not being fully brought into the manor and such #but cass. hm. nope! #and yeah she had babs as a mentor but babs is not always the kindest or warmest person #i think CONSTANTLY about babs yelling at cass for not knowing how to read yet #(obviously not as a sum of their entire relationship! but as an example of how cass being held to this standard… #…of perfection and obedience and strength actually HURTS her relationships with others when it turns out she’s a person. a young woman… #…who needs room to grow and learn and change. despite so many people expecting her to just Be Perfect already.) #anyway i’m just pondering. thinking aloud. cass ily

[no1ryomafan]

With more older anime I watch that’s specifically about androids the more I noticed all the influence mega man pulled from it despite it not being a anime nor the robot timeline ever getting a proper anime but I think what gets me more then “the basis of mega man is like astro boy, casshern and POSSIBLY kikaider all in a blender with mega man x making the second two inspos more apparent” is realizing how many villain characters inspired proto man.

You have the obvious one, char from Gundam, you have rock holmes from Astro boy who’s not a confirmed one but seems to track given classic takes a lot of Astro boy influence and then you have Saburo from Android kikaider, the most likely inspo for proto in EVERY category- and then you remember how while these characters are evil for a complex reason, proto man really shines to be different as he changed his ways. He’s still a rival to his “brother” in a sense but bass takes more of the role of the evil mega man, while proto just watches from afar and comes in to help when he thinks he’s needed.

I’m going to rotate this red robot fuck for awhile again FUCK

#meg text #I don’t feel like tagging anything involved properly since most fans won’t know wtf im saying #im 90% sure I’m one of the only mm fan educate on old things even if there’s mecha heads who know it #even if I still need to watch more of its actual inspirations #this rants more disjointed because I lost where the fuck I was going but tldr proto man got me again #I hate to admit he’s my favorite classic character bc it’s a basic bitch answer but he really is #Mfs go “I don’t like classic/x that much” then immediately obsess over the red robots in it #bc zero isn’t safe from this EITHER since he’s also confirmed to be based off of char #and his entire character is about defying his intended to be evil past which he ultimately does in the end #but proto took from so many evil rival characters that it’s always fascinating to me how he shifts #even if Archie was the only time this arc got somewhat fleshed out it’s still compelling to think about #not to despite his brother being stronger he’s more advanced because he arguably is the first robot with free will #arguably he was more of a basis for X then rock #just light made sure X would turn out fine because proto ran away #probably why he didn’t give rock the same free will even if it would’ve made sense for his characterization #*rotating robots* GOD

[muzzlemouths]

Psst. Just wanted to let you know that you're cool and I hope you have a really nice day today! You seem to be Goin Through It™ and I just wanted to let you know that we (your followers) like you no matter the quantity of stuff you're able to make at any given time (though we most certainly do like what you make, but that's not why most of us stay, I believe); you're very funny and have insightful opinions about writing, and you're always super nice when I stop by to say hi! Please remember to be kind to your mind and heart this upcoming Spring. I hope The Delights come into your life in leaps and bounds, and that you'll receive good news soon!!! <33

ooh...ohh.h.....th.ank you for the kind words........

#ohhhh i fought long and hard to not just. keep this in my inbox so i could stare at it for days #when i first read this my initial reaction was ''oh god is it that obvious'' #''am i like crashing and burning in real time on this blog. live on tv'' #which..FAIR YEAH LMAO #to be 100% transparent here i actually haven't been on this blog all day BECAUSE i was having a day where I was just like. #ahaha my shit Sucks and everybody's just humoring me #comparison kills and i have been stabbing myself like its the ides of march lately #and the fact that i haven't put anything new out is half because of that i'm sure #like the mindset of ''if i post nothing at all then i can't compare it to [insert other authors here]'' #WHICH IS SOOOO STUPID I KNOW I KNOW #self sabotage is my middle name its a bad habit i'm fighting daily but it's HARD #this has just turned into a Whining Session oh no #there's a reason i moved all of this to tags lmao #ANYWAY ANYWAY. GENUINELY I WANT TO SAY THANK YOU #from the bottom of my heart asks like these keep me from going over the deep end #it amazes me each and every day that so many of you choose not only to follow me but to STAY despite my general shenanigans and thinly veil #like i'll have days (like today) where i'm on the floor kicking and screaming over NOTHING and y'all just sit back and wait for me to get m #and it makes me so genuinely soft. the patience and kindness you show me #i will try my HARDEST to be kind to my mind and heart i promise. I promise. #if not for myself than for everyone out there continuously showing their support for me despite The Horrors #and I hope you're right i hope The Delights are somewhere in view soon enough #lord knows we could all use 'em #thank you again #❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ #edit: oh tumblr cut off like half of these paragraphs #thats probably for the best. you can just guess what i said LMAO

[detransdamnation]

I'm still really upset about that post [AL] I wrote on educators telling students' parents about their dysphoria or transgender identity because this topic is really only a small part of a greater framework of how "parental rights" harm youth.

If abuse is most likely to be perpetrated by immediate family members, especially parents, that means that, speaking strictly statistically, parents are the least safe people to tell about a child's mental health struggles because they are most likely to use them to abuse them. Factor in that many youth who develop a mental illness in the first place have faced abuse at some point in their lives—and many are subsequently abused, mistreated, or neglected after said mental illness develops—and this becomes even more dire because the root of these teens' mental illness and the unhealthy behaviours which arise from them is significantly likely to have grown from the hands who feed them. "Mental illness is a product and reflection of our environment" is not only what so many of us espouse and incorporate into our belief systems but is also a relative, observable fact.

And yet, in response to teens who are struggling as a result, we operate as if this is completely untrue. And it's not only apparent in this aforementioned debate; it is apparent in this entire culture of conditional confidentiality wherein everything a minor shares with a psychologist or therapist or social worker is "just between us" but as soon as the teenager crosses a line, takes a step too far, expresses symptoms or develops coping mechanisms that are a little too close for comfort (or respectable politics), all of a sudden, it is no longer the professional's job to help and support the teenager but the parents' right to know about the teenager's struggles because it is the parents' job to keep them safe, always assuming but almost never confirming that the parents ever actually cared about what a parent "should" do. There is never consideration that the parents are the reason why the teenager is unwell, why the teenager is unsafe to themselves in the first place, and that telling the parents about the teenager's mental state could do even more harm than whatever harm the teenager is posing to themselves at the time.

And this is something that the most vulnerable are often most painfully aware of. I saw several therapists over the course of my teenhood and none of them had any idea why I was in therapy because I never talked about anything that I actually needed to talk about. I couldn't have. My confessions would have entailed a lawful breach of confidentiality to the very people who had fucked me up in the first place. This implement to supposedly "keep me safe" only ever ensured that I stayed silent. Silence was literally my only safe option—and unhealthy, unsafe communities, for most of my life, the only places I could confide in because the only ones who did not just parrot an empty "Talk to your parents or another adult you trust!" were other abused and mentally ill teens who needed just as much help as I did, yet were failed just as much as I was.

This is why I find it so gobsmacking when "mental health advocates" center openness with parents, or (in this case) when gender-criticals claim they want to protect dysphoric youth whilst also blindly advocating for parental inclusion in every nitty gritty detail of the child's mental health experience, or even when therapists claim to be creating a "safe space" for teenagers at all, period—because how can a space or a person be "safe" when we actively cater to the wishes of potentially unsafe people? When we are legally mandated, some of us, to do so? The message being communicated in this practice and belief system is, "You have the right to discretion until you are too mentally ill"—and if a mentally ill person feels like they have to toe a fine line, walk on eggshells, dumb down their feelings or experiences just so that whistles aren't blown to their abusers, the practice and belief system is set up for the abuser to benefit, whether deliberately or incidentally.

People cannot heal when they cannot even feel, or express what they are feeling, freely. By pushing for the rights of the parent to be considered above all else, we create an environment where youth cannot do any of this. We cannot claim to be supporting (or even caring about) this population at all when we play a direct role in why they are so vulnerable in the first place. Abuse victims—and especially abused youth—are way too often redirected back to their abuse by the very people who are supposed to help them grow from it under this idea that parents have an innate right of disclosure just by virtue of being a parent.

#over the weekend i kept thinking about how i went to a school for 'troubled teens' #and tracking with what is common in teens who are designated 'troubled' #a significant majority (3/4+) of us grew up in disadvantaged or unhealthy or flatout abusive homes #and unsurprisingly many of us also dealt with this through unhealthy channels #such as through truancy or (mild) drug use or self-injurious behaviour and holy fucking identity crises galore #none of which we went through any particular effort in hiding #yet despite all of this our social workers never relayed any of the information that we told them to others #not even to the rest of the staff #and at first this gave me pause even as a teenager #you know the whole 'if you know that we are struggling then why aren't you doing something?' #until one day it clicked: #the only other people these social workers could tell about our situations where 'something' could actually be done were our families #and our families were one of the main reasons WHY we were 'troubled' in the first place #what appeared from an outside perspective and even to myself at the time as 'doing nothing' #turned out to be the MOST that anyone had ever done for me and i'm sure for many of those other kids: #they gave us a space where we could express and feel and BE without worrying that it would somehow get back to our abusers #we could be exactly what we were there for—'troubled'—without being inundated with all of the tone deaf flowery crap #that traditional schools and the whole entire psychology field only ever had to offer us #everyone is all about harm reduction until young people are involved. THEN it becomes an issue of being open with parents. #as if the parents are ALWAYS there to reduce harm when you can get out from underneath your rock and learn even anecdotally #that this is completely untrue. even with many parents who are genuinely good parents. #but anyway again this post does not address every single nuance to the situation nor my beliefs. i'm just venting #just talking to myself #this is the part where i shut up because i'm not even upset from the trans angle anymore and my nihilist bullshit doesn't need to be on her #writing #text #my post

[averbaldumpingground]

Life almost disappears, those summer afternoons spent reading in the park, your head half-leaning on his shoulder. Those mornings in the spring, a little late for work.

It didn't matter then, the way he took two sugars in his coffee. The way you let your hair grow out too long.

But these, the memories we keep, crammed in a shoebox full of polaroids, saved somewhere on a half-forgotten hard drive, they're what remains behind. They're what your sister finds, the weekend that she helps you pack your life.

And then it's sitting on the couch, your kitchen stuff already wrapped in paper. It's styrofoam containers, soda cans. It's wine that she's already drinking from the bottle.

And you can't figure out whose silhouette that was, who showed up to your party with a boa. And she is pretty sure her ex has kids.

But maybe that's why you and I keep postcards. Somebody's bow tie, paperclips, that bit of string.

They don't remind us of some other time, exactly. They're pieces of the people that we were, they're feelings that we'd wanted to hold on to.

#June 12 2023 #I've had 'Spin' by Lifehouse stuck in my head all day. #Is it about some girl? Is it about god? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Who the heck even knows. #I mean that's like a very large percentage of Lifehouse's musical output. #Well this one could also be about parenthood I guess. #And I'm pretty sure 'You and Me' is definitely about Jason Wade's wife and 'Hanging by a Moment' is about god per comments he's made. #But it's a fun party game isn't it? #Speaking of 'Hanging by a Moment'. Even though it came out when I was like 12 and I hadn't yet realized the whole religious thing. #I associate it most with the summer I was 25 and living with my parents for the summer for a grad school internship. #I remember driving my mom's car to work after dropping her off along the way and cranking up the radio. #Unfortunately my options were limited to the pop station (too many commercials) or the Spanish station (I don't speak Spanish) #or the Christian rock station (the one I usually listened to despite my uncomfortable relationship with religion especially at the time). #And the first time I heard them play Lifehouse I was like wtf? Why is the Christian rock station playing something I actually like? #And then I really listened to the words of 'Hanging by a Moment' and I was 'Oooooh.' #And that was how it took me like 13 years to realize a band I liked and owned cds of may or may not have written a bunch of songs about god #Which honestly would have turned 12 year old me off a lot because like it's not fun being an atheist when almost everyone's a dick about it #And I'm not sure it was the healthiest coping mechanism for the whole having my heart shattered by a religious dude when I was 25... #Actually that's not true. That year I mostly played the fuck out of Emmylou Harris's and Bob Dylan's most depressing hits. ('Gold' anyone?) #Followed by Royal Wood's divorce album when that came out. #But blasting the Christian rock station in the car? Definitely kind of intentionally masochistic. But also I really hate radio commercials. #I did listen to a lot of Lifehouse that summer. #So regardless of what the songs are actually about they all remind me of the highway and my mom's old car and carpooling to work. #Except 'Blind'. 'Blind' still makes me cry. #That was a really pointless aside because I don't feel like writing or going to sleep and will probably stay up listening to Lifehouse now. #I guess the moral of that story if it needs to have a moral is: #If you're a godless heathen and someone makes you feel like shit because they act like there's something wrong with you for it #you're much better off not wasting your time trying to understand why they think like that and living your best heathen life instead. #Or something like that. Idk.

[girlfictions]

something i’ve been thinking about lately is like. growing up muslim right after 9/11 is something i’d never really reflected on much because it was all i’d ever known — at 5, my friend’s mum didn’t let her invite me to her birthday party because i was the only brown girl in our class, at 12, my classmates would joke about my family being part of isis, at 16, my dad was interrogated by american airport security for hours — and it always stung and it always hurt but it was just the way things were because the western world hated muslims. but i don’t think i’ve ever fully comprehended the extent to which we were hated until now.

palestine is being turned into a mass graveyard. every single day there are new photos of the atrocities being carried out against them and videos of them pleading for help and still those who can actually intervene turn a blind eye. israel is claiming to only be targeting hamas “terrorists” while bombing a refugee camp. israeli police raided and assaulted a non-zionist jewish neighbourhood. israeli soldiers are posting tiktoks of them torturing captured palestinians. this is not a complicated issue and it never has been. ethnic cleansing is being committed right in front of us. and yet the western world leaders refuse to call for a ceasefire.

and while zionist organisations accuse pro-palestine demonstrations of anti-semitism, while zionist celebrities insist that they’re afraid to leave their mansions in los angeles, a six year old muslim boy was stabbed to death and his mother wounded in the same attack in chicago. a muslim doctor was murdered while sitting outside her apartment complex in texas. hundreds of peaceful protesters have been arrested (many of whom have been jewish). despite what zionists want you to believe, this is not a jewish/muslim conflict. i have so much love and gratitude to my brave jewish brothers and sisters all over the world who are condemning israel for their actions.

ultimately, israel have been granted impunity by the west. they have slaughtered thousands upon thousands of innocent palestinians. they have bombed hospitals and schools indiscriminately. they have used white phosphorus, violating the geneva convention. they have completely eradicated nearly 900 bloodlines. how many more need to be wiped out? how many more children need to be buried underneath the rubble? how many more doctors need to be confronted with the bodies of their own family members? how many more journalists need to detail the horrific acts of violence they are witnessing? what more can be done to the palestinian people that has not been done already?

i truly believe that palestine will be free one day. i believe the palestinian people will receive the justice they finally deserve. but what breaks my heart is how much they have suffered and will continue to suffer before they are deemed worthy of help. and it would be to all of our detriment if we ignored how much of a factor palestine being a predominantly muslim state has played into the way the world has reacted to their genocide.

#edit: this is completely okay (and encouraged frankly) to reblog <3 #i just needed to get this off my chest because i don’t know how much more i can take #palestine #free palestine

[alastor-simp]

Alastor x Reader - Sleeping On His Lap

Here is my attempt at a Alastor x reader fanfiction. Took me awhile to kinda get into his character so please don't be mad if Alastor seems a bit off. Enjoy!

Sigh, it was another eventful day at the Happy Hotel, or Hazbin Hotel as it was now called as a certain deer demon decided to change the name. You had spent all day doing certain tasks around the hotel such as helping Charlie create posters for the hotel, clean the rooms with Nifty, break up the brawl between Vaggie and Angel Dust as he had pissed her off one too many times and organize the bar for Husk as he was passed out drunk. You could have refused to do these things, but you enjoyed helping people, so it made it all worth it.

You had started working at the hotel after you had saw Charlie singing on the 666 news about the hotel and redeeming demons, only for her idea to be made a laughing stock upon everyone who watched the broadcast. You actually had mixed feelings about the whole redeeming thing, seeing as you weren't sure if someone like you could be sent to heaven, despite not being a very big criminal during your time when you were alive, but apparently doing a little shoplifting is enough to send you a one way ticket to hell. Charlie's words did inspire you a little bit, so even if you felt that you couldn't be redeemed, others probably had a better chance, so you decided to head to the hotel and ask for a job after the broadcast was cut off from the brawl with Charlie and Katie Killjoy. You were hired in a split second and immediately pulled into a bear hug by Charlie, and then introduced you to the others.

Back to the present, you began to feel extremely exhausted from moving around everywhere, so you headed over to one of the rooms with the long couches so you could take a rest. Heading into one of the rooms, you peeped around and saw that no one was there, which made it better as you really needed some peace and quiet. Heaving a deep sigh, you sat down on the couch, turning and falling back, as you laid your body down, with your head facing the front of the couch. "What a long day", thinking to yourself as your eyes slowly began to close and you were lulled into a deep sleep.

**2 Hours Later**

As you were sleeping, you felt the sensation of someone petting your head, the soothing feeling had awoken you a bit, but you quickly fell back asleep at the warm touch. You could feel that you were holding something in your dreams, and you assumed it was one of the pillows on the couch, so you brought it closer to your face and nuzzled it. "Mm, smells nice ", as the scent from the pillow was making you more relaxed, as it reminded you of a being in the middle of a deep forest. After sleeping for 30 more minutes, you slowly began to open your eyes, and try to make out what was in front of you. Expecting to see a pillow, you saw red stripes in front of you, "Huh?" As you were still trying to make out what was in front of you, a loud voice interrupted your thoughts: "Ah, awake now are we?", said a static voice above you. Eyes opening wide, you looked up from your position and saw Alastor staring down at you with his trademark smile. Slowly, you began to piece together that you were laying on his lap, and nuzzled into his chest as you were sleeping. "AHHHH", jumping up from your position, you rolled off his lap, and your body fell to the ground as you stared at Alastor in shock, as he continued to look at you with his glowing eyes, amused at your reaction. "Um, h-how long was I sleeping on your lap?", you softly asked, as your face was red, but your eyes were showing fear, as you remembered that Alastor did not like to be touch, and you happened to hug him in your sleep. "HAHA, For quite a while, darling. It was a very busy day, I assume?", Alastor said as he placed his arm on the armrest of the couch, and his hand against his cheek, smiling even wider.

Nodding your head, you slowly got up from your position, and started apologizing to Alastor, eyes aiming towards the ground and fingers twiddling together. Alastor raised an eyebrow and wondered why you were apologizing, to which you answered that you had hugged him in your sleep, and that he made it very aware that he did not enjoy physical contact from someone unless he initiated it, feeling extremely bad if you made him uncomfortable. Listening to you, Alastor's smile relaxed to a small grin as he looked at you with gentle eyes. He did admit that he was not use to being touch by others, and was quite surprised from the sleep hug, but he didn't detest it as much coming from you, which boggled his mind completely. It must be due to your kind and innocent nature that made him react different around you, as he was used to more of the common riff raff being terrified of him or trying to battle in a turf war, but how you were with him, made his black heart melt.

Feeling that Alastor was upset as he didn't respond to your apology, you quickly excused yourself and began to head over to the door to leave. A loud SNAP was heard and before you knew it, you had been teleported back on to the couch, this time being seated on Alastors lap. "A-Al, what are you doing?!", your face began to become as red as his hair, while your eyes stared at Alastor in shock. Smiling at you, Alastor moved his hand to your chin and tilted your face up: "There is no need to apologize, darling. If I had been upset about you hugging me, you possibly w̩͉͍̱̍̂̉̊o̫̼̐̎̋͜u͚͌l̳̓d̠͉̗͋̔͞'̼̳̣̼͊̏̾̾t͜͝ ͕̱͐͠ḇ̅e̙͗ ͍͓͔̱͍͛̔͌͘͞a̝̜̘̎́͒ḽ͒í̱̙̈́v̧̌e̠͠ ̢̹̜́́̈̀ͅr̲͇̳̅̽͌i̩͈̒̅ĝ̲̦̎ẖ̛̳̲͙̀͌̽͘ͅt͉̅ ͖̞͍̞́̋͛͛ň͚̫̦́͂̿͟o̱͌w̡̕" he said, as his eyes flashed for a second into radio dials. "However! I am not opposed to be touched by you. So no need to apologize, my dear.", Alastor said as he continued to smile at you widely, but his glowing eyes were looking at you softly, letting you know that he was not angry with you. Feeling shy, you turned your head away from Alastor, muttering a soft okay, as your heart was beating rapidly. "Smile my dear!" Alastor said as he moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, to have you look at him again. Baring through the embarrassing situation, you gave Al a small smile, which pleased him. "You always over do it, darling. While Charlie and I appreciate your efforts at helping the hotel, it does no good to work yourself to the point of fatigue. If you are ever feeling exhausted and need a break, don't be hesitant to come find me, as my radio tower is open to you. Understand, my dear?" said Alastor, as he leaned closer towards you, making you flustered again.

Nodding your head was enough to let Alastor knew you understood as he chuckled, while sliding you off his lap, and as he stood up from the couch. "Now then, we should probably head back to the lobby before the others get worried about our lack of presence.", He said, as he straighten his coat out, while turning towards you, extending his hand out for you to take it. "Yeah we should", as you grabbed his hand, and made your way with him back to the lobby. You were still trying to process what just happened between you and Alastor, but you feel like you both have become much closer then before, and you didn't mind it one bit.

#alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #fluff #x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon x reader #radio demon #hazbin hotel headcannon #fluff x reader #lap pillow #kawaii #viviziepop #charlie magne #angel dust #Husk #Nifty #vaggie #nap time #sleepy cuddles

[unpretty]

a fact about me is that i was an early bloomer who hit puberty in elementary school and was immediately, obnoxiously horny in ways that were uncomfortable for everyone because no one is prepared for an elementary schooler with b cups and a deep fascination with movies where people get tied up. another fact is that because i was considered smart for my age in the ways that mattered, i just accepted all this as a single package, the many ways that i was not really a child the way other children were children but was instead a miniature adult. i was technically a child, but not really, as far as i was concerned. it also did not occur to me until around high school that i was fat, because i instead considered myself to be sturdy, to be buff, to be built like a tank.

so somewhere around middle school i am noticing the ways in which i am Not Like Other Girls, the ways in which i am not what society says a girl is and the ways that things marketed to girls do not appeal to me. i don't know how other girls dealt with this, but i very rationally decided that i was only technically a girl, in the way that i was only technically a child. so i looked at the things that did appeal to me, and that i did enjoy, and reverse engineered my demographic to decide that on a practical and functional level i was a middle-aged man. i had also gotten really hornily into wolverine because of the first x-men movie, and ended up reading a lot of comics, so as you can imagine the comic book version of wolverine who is short and built like a tank and older than he looks despite being for all intents and purposes a middle aged man really had some appeal to me.

there are idiots who say shit about how tomboys would be considered trans these days or whatever, but i can assure you that was not what was happening here. by middle school i already had to special order bras and i was fine with that because of the many weird fetishes i was developing, none of which can be blamed on the internet because i hadn't found that shit yet and also to this day you would have a hard time finding anything similar to the things i wrote in my secret notebook and immediately destroyed. the fact that i was technically a girl was vital to all this. media where there was a big reveal that some cool dude had been a hot chick the whole time was my shit. weird feral beast people who turned out to be hot women once they took a bath? fuck yes. i would never have cut my hair because that would have ruined my chances to take off a helmet and reveal that i had girl hair. at no point did i think i was anything but a girl, it was just that i was functionally a middle-aged man, who was a girl.

what this means is that i still liked all the things i already liked, such as leather jackets and comic books and anime and old stand-up comedy, but i also did extensive research on the other things i felt i should like according to the demographic i had assigned myself. i watched vh1's 'i love the 70s' with the air of someone trying to hide their amnesia, even though my parents were children in the 70s. i got into the beatles. i tried to get into cars for a while before accepting that i only liked the vintage car aesthetic and couldn't be fucked to know actual car facts. i wore nothing but cargo shorts and aloha shirts for a while, which didn't really stand out that much because it was middle school. i bought a fedora and became a libertarian atheist. i made plans to buy a motorcycle (i could not ride a bike).

i gave up on it after a while because quite frankly my titty situation meant there was never really going to be a big reveal that i'd been a girl the whole time. it was pretty obvious even with the cargo shorts. also the older of a teen i was, the more likely it felt that i could maybe get laid, except i could tell that was never going to happen as long as i kept wearing cargo shorts. it took longer to give up the fedora because it was leather and i wore it with my leather jacket and fingerless gloves, which i convinced myself worked a lot better after i'd gone full high school goth. i lived in the desert so you can imagine how well that worked out for me, smell-wise.

anyway that's how my female socialization went, i don't think it was particularly successful tbqh

#original #the funniest part to me is the vh1 thing #i watched so much vh1 while inexplicably behaving as if i was already familiar with everything i was seeing

[inkskinned]

no, actually, where is the whimsy?

my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?

we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.

earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.

i stared at my ex. he stared at me.

his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!

it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.

and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.

my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.

which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.

but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.

the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.

so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.

and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.

where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.

it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.

this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.

#spilled ink #writeblr #this is a real story lol #looking back i liked larry as a person SO much more than my ex hollyyyyy shitttt #compulsory heterosexuality will do you DIRTY #edit to correct effies name my apologies to effie and effies family

[a-book-of-creatures]

I think I stumbled upon some kind of ichthyological forbidden knowledge. Opened up a book of names that were never meant to be read.

You've probably heard of "can-opener smoothdream", right? It's practically a meme by now.

But the thing is, it's a deep-sea fish. And deep-sea fish have historically not had English names because nobody drops them into the conversation over a hot cuppa. Sure, there's generic stuff like hatchetfish and barreleye, but when you want to refer to the actual fish you're probably saying such euphonious phrases as Diretmus argenteus, Sternoptyx diaphana, or maybe even Opisthoproctus soleatus.

So whence "can-opener smoothdream"? Certainly no non-ichthyologist has ever used that name. It's not even a direct translation of the scientific name Chaenophryne longiceps - that would be "long-headed gape-toad". Which to me is even cooler than "can-opener smoothdream".

But I digress. The "dream" bit comes from the anglerfish family Oneirodidae, from oneiros, "dream", because those marvelous fishes look like they came out of a dream (Pietsch, 2009).

Note that Pietsch (2009), more or less the anglerfish bible, uses English names at the genus level only. So Chaenophryne is the smoothhead dreamers genus but no mention is made of "can-opener smoothdreams". So no luck there.

Wikipedia, root cause of a lot of misinformation, has this to say.

"Longhead dreamer" is a far more accurate name. And in fact, despite Wikipedia prioritizing "can-opener smoothdream" (because it's funny?), the links listed use "longhead dreamer" and "smoothhead dreamer" as the name and "can-opener smoothdream" as an alternative.

So. Again. Where did "can-opener smoothdream" come from?

The answer, as it turns out, lies with McAllister (1990).

In the book A List of the Fishes of Canada, ichthyologist D. E. McAllister sought out to list every single fish known to Canadian waters, providing both an English and a French name.

And when there wasn't an English name, like for most deep-sea fishes, he arbitrarily gave them a name. And his names "differ in many instances from the widely accepted names" (Holm, 1998)

This had varying results. This is his name for one of the netdevil anglerfishes.

The humpback anglerfish or blackdevil anglerfish becomes a werewolf (????).

This one is just confusing.

The white-spotted lanternfish or Rafinesque's lanternfish instead becomes...

And most embarrassingly, the Mediterranean spiderfish gets saddled with something that "violates the tenet of good taste" (Holm, 1998).

This then is the original source of "can-opener smoothdream". It was invented by an ichthyologist in 1990, and has seen little to no use outside of how bizarre the name is.

Maybe McAllister's goofier names will catch on. Who knows? They certainly aren't very popular in the scientific community though.

References

Holm, E. (1998) Encyclopedia of Canadian Fishes (review). The Canadian Field-Naturalist, 112, p. 174-175.

McAllister, D. E. (1990) A List of the Fishes of Canada. National Museum of Natural Sciences, Ottawa.

Pietsch, T. W. (2009) Oceanic Anglerfishes: Extraordinary Diversity in the Deep Sea. University of California Press, Berkeley.

#marine biology #fishes #can-opener smoothdream

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

So Daddy - LN

Request from @rbmv33 - I saw that someone gave lando a daddy bracelet. I was wondering if you could do where the reader see the bracelet and jokes around with him and calls him daddy but he doesn’t realize it’s a joke 🩷🩷

I'm sorry, I think you wanted smut. For some reason I just have no inspiration/motivation for smut rn. Idk, Idk when it'll come back to me. I'm really sorry.

Themes: Suggestions of a daddy kink

No part 2 request please

With Lando being so much busier than usual since there's so many more fan events in Melbourne compared to the average race weekend. Y/n has been just enjoying herself wondering around getting to move around the paddock and track on her own.

But when she does finally catch him with him, he's very much latched onto her though he's caught in conversation with some other people while hugging her back against him.

She's actually just fidgeting with his hand and tidying his bracelets a little when she notices one and while there's a chance he noticed what it said, he also puts bracelets on blindly.

"Sorry, baby. I gotta go." Lando states after the conversation apparently ends.

"It's alright, daddy." Y/n shrugs meaning to sound more teasing but she figures he'll figure it out.

"I-Ok." Lando nods frowning slightly but just sort of accepting it before he kisses her then takes off since he does actually really need to go.

It's not till later that Lando sees her again and this time she's lying on a sofa in the McLaren unit that, he sits down managing to pull her so she's lying with her head on his lap.

"Hey, beautiful." Lando smiles still having thoughts about the earlier name.

"Hi, daddy." Y/n mumbles still focused on something on her phone with her brows furrowed, again it was meant to come out more teasing but her mum is texting her in a conversation about plans for Silverstone despite it being ages away. "Ah, why is she like this? I swear, the woman is 11 hours behind us, it's like the middle of the night there and she's on the phone hassling me."

Lando smiles pinching her phone from her hands and tossing it off to the side.

"Problem fixed." Lando smiles making her look at him and smile a little before she grins at him. "You coming to the garage with me?"

"Uhhh...yeah, I just need to run to the bathroom. I'll be right back, daddy."

As soon as she's gone Lando leans back, trying to contain himself. Is it seriously turning him on? She's being so casual about it, is she testing the waters with something?

"Alright, ready to go?" Y/n smiles brightly reappearing making him uncover his hands from his face. "Are you ok you look a little...flush?"

"I'm good. Let's go." Lando nods standing up and taking her hand.

"Ok daddy."

Finally got the tone right to tease him. But Lando still doesn't react like she expects. Which she knows can only mean one thing...he's not mad about it nor does he want her to stop.

Lando looks almost stressed by the time they get to the garage and she can't lie that it's pretty amusing to see him so stressed out about it.

"We are leaving as soon as I've debriefed. So be ready to leave." Lando states as she moves to stand in the team guest spectator area in the garage.

"Yes, daddy."

Max's head whips around at that but he can't get a word out before Lando has disappeared from next to them.

"Did you just call him daddy?" Max questions not even thinking to leave the whole thing alone.

"He has a bracelet from a fan that says daddy, and I noticed started calling him it but he's not said anything yet." Y/n smiles crossing her arms while Max makes a noise of disgust.

"He's probably enjoying it."

"Well..." Y/n shrugs not actually caring about Max knowing far too much. She knows he's got secrets with Lando so there's no point in trying to cover for him.

"I'm traumatised." Max shudders while she just smiles and pats his shoulder.

"Just think of the stuff I'm not telling you about."

"Y/n, please." Max groans while she just grins, living for any way to torment her boyfriend's best friend. "I don't need to know."

"But I trust you enough to tell you anyway." Y/n grins then patting his shoulder. "You should be happy I like you so much, a lot of girlfriends and best friend have beef."

"I wish we had beef if I meant I didn't have to hear this."

"Max, that's so mean." Y/n pouts before grinning at him. "But I forgive you."

-

"Hey, daddy." Y/n greets as soon as she sees Lando, leaning back on the sofa and smiling as his hand comes to her throat, gently squeezing it as he leans down to kiss her.

"Hey, baby." Lando smiles rubbing his thumb on her pulse. "We're going out for dinner."

"We are?" Y/n hums earning a short nod. Honestly the way he's looking at her is beginning to make her feel hot.

"Yeah, we'll go back to the hotel. You can get dressed in something nice and I'm taking you out for dinner." Lando states making her look at him for a moment. "Come on, baby."

Y/n seems to wait a couple beats before she stands up and moves with him.

-

It's not till they're sitting across from each other that y/n decides to comment on Lando's reaction to her calling him daddy.

"So you like the whole daddy thing?" She asks not feeling bad for asking.

"Maybe I do. But you started it...so you mustn't hate it."

She doesn't in fact, it's something she really thought she'd hate but with Lando it feels annoyingly good.

"I don't hate calling you daddy...but it was that because of that bracelet."

He's just so happened to take off his bracelets before they came out for dinner when he got changed into a suit and shirt. Fuck.

"Bracelet?" Lando frowns in confusion. "What bracelet?"

"I knew you didn't notice. The bracelet from your fans. One of them said daddy...but for the record you are definitely giving me sugar daddy vibes right now." Y/n admits almost feeling shy when she says it.

It's as if she just unlocked a different side to her boyfriend and she didn't realise this side existed till now. But it might just be her new favourite.

Lando smirks a little as y/n bites her lip a little as their peace is disturbed by the arrival of the food.

"So...daddy...how often should I be calling you that?" Y/n asks as she pokes her fork into her pasta.

"As often as possible would be preferable." Lando shrugs making her clear her throat a little and shift. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah...I'm just thinking." Y/n mumbles making him raise his eyebrows in question. "I may have traumatised Max earlier with this..."

Lando seems to almost choke on the bite of food in his mouth.

"You traumatised him?" Lando laughs making her sigh.

"I didn't think you might genuinely turned on by being called daddy, but I was joking about it with him earlier when he heard me say it in the garage and he definitely didn't want to know." Y/n smiles making Lando grin. "He'll just have to get over it."

"I'm sure he appreciates that."

"Not my fault your fans has forced me to acknowledge you're daddy material." Y/n states then pausing while Lando gets a mouthful of food. "You'll have to make sure you wear that bracelet again so they all know."

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess

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